


An arrow from the past

by outshinebycomparison



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: AU, Gen, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-12-31 01:54:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21041156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outshinebycomparison/pseuds/outshinebycomparison
Summary: 1921. Oliver Queen has been missing for five years and now he is finally coming back home. After volunteering in World War One, he was made prisoner by Germans in Africa. A tragic event ultimately brings him back to Starling City, where everything has changed. With the help of Felicity Smoak and John Diggle, he starts a new life.





	1. 1

Chapter One

June 1921

Moira Queen heard a car driving on the gravel and wondered who could it be, since she wasn't expecting anyone. She looked out the big window and saw a black car stop in front of their entrance. Two men wearing a military uniform came out and rang the bell of the Queen Mansion.

"Mrs. Queen. There are two men from the War Department who have asked to speak with you" the housekeeper said.

"Did they say why?" She asked perplexed.

"Only that it was an urgent matter "

"Let them in then. I'll be waiting in the living room" Moira said sighing.

"Mrs. Queen, we are very sorry to disturb you without previous notice. But we didn't have time as things have happened quite rapidly. You can confirm us that your son's name is Oliver Jonas Queen?" Major Smith said after introducing himself.

Moira's heart sank "It was. Have you found his grave?" She asked resigned.

Major Smith looked straight into her eyes "No ma'am" He paused. "He is alive".

Moira Queen was a stern woman, there weren't many things that would get her. But this time she felt so weak in her legs that she had to sit down.

"This can't be. Where is he, what happened?" She said whispering.

"He is on his way to the United States now. We don't have much detailed information but he contacted the American Embassy in Dar Es Salaam a few weeks ago"

"We were told he had been killed in the Battle of Mahiwa" She objected.

"Apparently he was severely wounded and then made prisoner by the Germans. When the war ended he was still in poor condition and was taken to a local village."

"And then?"

"Then you'll have to ask your son".

Five years earlier

June 1916

Oliver Jonas Queen, aged 24, knew he was always the centre of the attention at any social event of Starling City. He was rich, handsome, charming and he had everything he wanted. He was engaged to Laurel Lance, a beautiful socialite he was planning to marry soon. His only duty was toward the Starling Weekly, a report magazine owned by his family company, Queen Industries, of which he was the editor. He approved the articles written by his staff, the layouts and the advertisement.

His father Robert Queen, of English middle class origin, was the president of the company he had founded in 1886 and rapidly brought into success. He had decided to make his son work at the magazine once he had finished university by the skin of his teeth. Robert Queen thought the magazine to be an easy experience for his son. He wanted him to mature enough so one day he could take control of the Company. He and his wife Moira had realized they had been too permissive with their son, who had become too carefree. They had another daughter, Thea. She was 16 years old and too bright for her age.

Oliver Queen woke up in the morning at 7.30. Well it happened usually just a couple of times during the week, because he often went to parties and arrived home very late. Raisa, the beloved housekeeper, would knock at his door with a cup of coffee and a couple of toasts. If she didn't get any answer she knew to come back later, because when he was up, he would usually open the door himself.

That morning he'd been up already at 6. He hadn't managed to sleep very well. He didn't understand why, he hadn't even drunk much the previous night. He had gone with Laurel to a friend's birthday dinner. Thomas Merlyn Jr was actually his best friend, son of Malcolm Merlyn, another powerful magnate of Starling City. They had grown up together, attending the same school and university, doing the same sports, going to the same places. Tommy was an only child and Oliver was like a brother to him.

Raisa raised her arm and was an inch from the door to knock it, when Oliver opened the door and smiled at her.

"Mr. Oliver" She sighed, putting her hand on her chest. "You almost frightened me!"

"I'm very sorry Raisa, I didn't mean to" he said taking the trail from her hands and putting it on his desk.

"You are already dressed Mr. " She noticed, while taking a few steps inside his room.

"I couldn't sleep. And then I became tired of turning around in my bed" He shrugged. "Is my family up?"

" is having breakfast in the dining room and Miss Thea should be ready to go to school"

"Thank you. I think I'll join Thea on her way to school. I'll ask Adam to leave me at the publishing house"

"Then I'll tell him to wait" Raisa said leaving. Oliver drank quickly his coffee and looked at himself the mirror, adjusting his necktie. Then he ran down the stairs and joined his sister in the back of their car.

"Adam told me you were coming too, but I was finding it hard to believe" Thea said amused.

"Well, I guess I can't really blame you" He said patting her knee " How is school?"

Thea grumbled "It's good but it's boring. And I'm surrounded by little minxes. Unfortunately, no matter how much I try, father won't let me transfer into a mixed school"

"Aah, boys!"

"NO! Well yes. Well I think a mixed school would be more challenging for me. And I think I would have a better education. I feel we're not getting enough here, because in the end they are just preparing us to be the wives of important men"

"I'm afraid I have to agree on that. But it was either this one, or a boarding school in England" He said.

They arrived at the school and Oliver gestured to Adam that he was going to open the car for her sister. He quickly got out and run to the other side to open the door for Thea. Then he kissed her cheek and wished her a good day.

Once he got back in the car, Adam told him "I see what you were doing sir". When he had kissed his sister, the girls around them had been swooning, whispering and sighing. He had done it on purpose.

"Thea wasn't overstating. But in the end, that's the age!" he winked. "This school has been around for years, but they should definitely be oriented in a modern way" He thought.

Adam drove Oliver to the publishing house, a nice Victorian building located downtown in King Street, which could have been compared to London's Fleet Street.

Oliver entered the building, wondering why people were surprised to see him, but when he saw his Miss Prudence, his secretary, gasping and looking at him wide-eyed, he asked.

"Is something wrong Prudence?"

"No sir. Not at all, good morning to you! Do you want a cup of coffee?"

"No thanks. But I'd like to have the magazine, it's out right?"

"Yes sir, I'll be right back. I was going to bring it to you later, because I didn't think to see you this early"

"Is it really that early?" He asked.

"You usually arrive after 10 sir" Prudence said holding her breath. Oliver looked at his pocket watch, it was 8.30. No wonder, he admitted. Miss Prudence arrived a minute later with the newest copy of the Starling Weekly. He would usually flip through the pages but this time the main article of the week caught his attention quite immediately. It concerned the Lafayette Escadrille, an escadrille of the French Air Service, composed mostly by American volunteer pilots. It was something that made him think. There were young men like him, his compatriots. And they had decided to go fight a war that wasn't theirs, risking their lives each time they stepped on one of those planes. They were remarkable men, he thought with a bit of longing.

Oliver was holding the magazine in front of him and noticed how neat the printing was. As if something had changed from the last edition. He called back Prudence and asked her if she had seen that change too. His secretary nodded and wondered if it was the paper or something in the typography section. Oliver was impressed and decided to go down to talk to the supervisor. He walked down the stairs to the lower ground and entered the printing room. The place was loud as they were still printing additional copies of the magazine.

" Mr. Smoak?" he called.

"Mr Queen, good morning. What can I do for you?" he asked politely but surprised.

"Mr. Smoak" He paused to lift the magazine "What have you changed? Is it the paper or the press, but the magazine has never looked so neat"

"Ah, you noticed!" Mr. Smoak answered. Oliver didn't know if he should feel slightly offended. "We adjusted the color distribution in the press" he paused "We changed a piece in the press, that's why"

"Well done sir, the magazine has never looked better"

"Thank you, but I have to admit it was not my idea"

Oliver looked at him questioning.

"And none of the guys either. It was my daughter's "

"Does she work here too?" Oliver looked around.

"No, Felicity is just a girl, she still goes to school. But she likes all mechanical things" His father said almost apologetically "And she wants to be an engineer! Can't she just get married like all the girls?" He shook his head.

"Or she can do both, if she wants" Oliver said winking.

"Oh well…" Mr. Smoak said scratching his head.

"Please tell her that her idea was very clever and I appreciated it" Oliver bid farewell and went back to his office. He sat at his desk and kept reading the rest of the magazine.


	2. 2

July 1916

In the following weeks Oliver kept reading almost obsessively all the newspaper and magazine reports about the war in Europe. The Lafayette Escadrille story had stuck into his mind and clicked something in his conscience. And then the Battle of the Somme had begun in France. Reading the numbers of the victims, whether they were killed or wounded, had left him dismayed. It was a butchery, and it seemed to have no ending.

That was the reason why he had been acting like in a daze. It was his fiancée Laurel who had finally pointed out to him his behavior.

"Hello my love!" She said placing her hat on his desk and then kissing him on his cheek.

"Laurel! What are you doing here?" He asked almost flatly.

"You have never looked so not-happy to see me!" She said irritated. "We've got a cocktail party to attend, don't you remember?"

Oliver shook his head. He had totally forgotten, and to be quite honest, he didn't care about it. Those parties were the same old story. He had noticed that every time they talked about the war, it was mindless and his friends concern seemed acted. And when he had brought up the topic, it seemed like nobody really wanted to pay attention. Somebody once said to him "Really Oliver, YOU want to talk about the war?" He had then become aware that perhaps he was well liked, but in truth people didn't take him seriously. Why would Oliver Queen care? He has never cared.

"Do you think I'm a shallow?" He asked abruptly, ignoring her question.

Laurel's face turned serious.

"What has gotten into you?" She sat down in front of him. "Well, if you want the truth, you are quite the epitome of superficiality, but no more or less than most of the people"

"Thank for your honest answer" He said attempting a smile. "I hope you don't mind too much, but I really don't want to go that cocktail party"

"But we promised we'd be there!" She objected.

"I know. But I'd rather go home. You are more than welcome to dine with us, you know that" He said trying to make amends.

Laurel grumbled but had to agree. Oliver was that stubborn, she knew he wouldn't easily change his mind. She told herself she needed to talk to him about his strange behavior.

Back at the Queen's mansion, they had a quiet dinner with his family, until Robert Queen and one of his administrators, Walter Steele, brought up the war subject, starting from weapon supplies.

Oliver was listening interested and at the same time uncertain. His father and Mr. Steele were sure that sooner or later the United States would have joined the conflict, stating that in the end, political and economical reasons were going to prevail.

Oliver agreed, but naively thought that there was more than that. And he made the mistake of voicing it out loud.

"I think we also have a duty toward our European friends" He said clearing his voice. His father and Walter Steele literally turned their heads in unison, when they heard him speak.

"What are you talking about?" his father said in a tone as if he was ready to mock him.

"We…well, you have read the news, and you know what's going on in Europe. Yes, the Germans definitely do not like us helping the Allied. They didn't have any problem in sinking the Lusitania. But despite that, they are suffering terrible losses. How long can we stay and watch this massacre happen? Doesn't our country know better the value of independence?"

Robert Queen started to laugh. "I didn't know you were so idealistic son!" He leaned over the table and looked at him. "I'll tell you one thing. This kind of thinking works well for propaganda, but not for us. If we are to intervene, there has to be more than that!"

"Would you join the army if we were at war with Germany?" Mr. Steele asked.

"Why not?" Oliver answered shortly.

"Walter, he would join the army only over my dead body. I wouldn't let my only son die in a war" Robert Queen interrupted. "And I'm not really sure he would join anyway, I know my son"

"Do you father?" Oliver was trying to be calm."You know, I would really like to see how you could prevent me to enlist"

"Don't you worry about that" He asserted.

Oliver was irritated. He was irritated by the way his father was talking to him and by the fact that in the end, he knew where he was coming from. He threw his napkin on the table and stood up.

"I think I'm not hungry anymore. If you would excuse me" He hissed. "Mother, please tell Adam to take Laurel home" He said and walked away, knowing that somehow he was proving his father right.

He stopped in the hall of their mansion and decided to go out. He took one of their cars and drove to a bar he used to go from time to time.

He ordered a gin-tonic and sat in front of the bar's counter. The Star Club was quite crowded, for being a Thursday night. A man was sitting near him, drinking his third beer and smoking a cigarette. He glanced at him and said:

"You've got quite the face there. Is there a woman causing you a problem?" The man had a British accent.

"What makes you think it's about a woman?" Oliver asked a bit peeved.

"I just have the impression that a man like you could only have a problem with a woman"

"You couldn't be more wrong. What's up with you?" He said trying to change the topic.

"My last night as a free man. I'm going back to England to enlist in the British Army. To make my family happy!"

"Did they push you into enlisting?"

"Yes. We left England 5 years ago because we couldn't have a good life there, and now my parents want me to fight for that country. Ironic, I say"

Oliver nodded and looked away for a moment. Then he turned to the man and said.

"What time are you leaving?"

The man raised his eyebrows. "Tomorrow at 12.30. I'm taking a train to New York and then the first boat that has the cheapest ticket. I don't have much money, unfortunately"

"That won't be a problem. Hear me, I think I'm going to come with you. Let's meet tomorrow half an hour before the train leaves at the ticket counter. I'll take care of the rest"

The man didn't seem to understand. "Why? What do you want to do? I hope you're not willing to enlist, I mean, you're an American!"

"Well, let me say that I know the right people, in the right places. And yes, I'm thinking of enlisting, but I'll talk about this later"

Oliver looked at him for a second. He needed to start it right now.

"By the way, I'm Jonas Smoak, nice to meet you" In the span of few seconds he gave himself a new name.

"I'm Felix Stratton, nice to meet you too" He stood up from the chair. "I think I'm going home and sleep, these three beers are about to take their toll on me" They shook hands and he left.

Oliver returned home long after midnight. He sat on his bed for a while and then went to his desk. He wrote two letters, one to his sister, and one to Miss Prudence. The next morning he woke up early and went to the publishing house, where nobody was still there, except the people in the printing room. He left the letter on Miss Prudence's desk, and then went to his office and looked around for the last time. He was going to miss it all, but he had made his decision.

Oliver wanted to be part of the war effort, he wanted to prove his father he wasn't just a boy born with the silver spoon in his mouth. It was a stubborn and sudden decision, but he didn't know any other way.

Oliver left the building in time before the staff started to come in, and went to the port, where he knew someone who would help him replicate a false British birth certificate. It took a few hours, and a nice amount of dollars for a piece of paper stating that Jonas Smoak was born in London, on May 16th 1892.

Finally he reached the train station where he met up with Felix Stratton.

"I hope you haven't purchased the tickets yet" His new friend shook his head.

"Two one way tickets to New York" He said at the ticket counter. "First class"

England – November 1916

"Well done, private Smoak", Lieutenant Garrett said. Oliver had shot quite perfectly in his last drill at the firing range. He nodded, taking a deep breath.

"You definitely are ready for combat. In facts, I have news!" He went on.

"Really? I'm finally going to the front?" He said hopeful, standing up.

"We're going to be shipped to Africa" Lieutenant Garrett said.

"Africa?" Oliver felt disconcerted. He'd thought to go to France.

"In three days. We're headed to Eastern Africa. It's British Empire, in the end"

"Yes sir, it is indeed"

"I hope you're not seasick, private. It's going to be a long trip"

"If you remember, I travelled from the United States by boat"

"Right, I forgot. You haven't lost your accent, did you say you were born there?"

"No sir, I was born in England, but I was a few months old when we left"

Oliver's plan had worked well. Once in New York, he and Felix had hopped on the first ship headed to England, and from there they'd travelled to London, joining the first recruitment office. During the trip, Oliver had observed, listened and talked very little, until he was sure he could fake the accent. Desperate for men, they had overlooked at the suspicious elements in his story, and sent him to training camp in Cheshire.

Having changed his name, his family hadn't managed to track him. He was feeling guilty for not having contacted the after leaving. In his letter to Thea, he had said very little, and mostly his affection to his little sister. To Prudence, he had left instructions, appointing her as vice-president and leaving her in charge of future editions of the magazine.

Three days later, Oliver and his regiment embarked for a several weeks long trip to Eastern Africa.

It was a dangerous sailing from the start, because the U-boots were attacking ships both in the Channel and the Mediterranean Sea. It was early December when the warship docked at Dar Es Salaam. Oliver grabbed his gear and walked down to the dock. It was very hot and dry.

"Welcome to Africa!" Felix Stratton shouted while running past him.

"Welcome indeed" He murmured. Now it begins He thought while following his regiment to the train that was going to take them to Lake Victoria.


	3. 3

October 18th, 1917

Battle of Mahiwa

Oliver was exhausted. The battle had been going on for 4 days, and it was draining all of his energy. He was eating and breathing dust so much he had sworn he would never go back to Africa again, if he survived the war.

'"Oh shit, they're really going to bring that hill down, Sergeant!" Private Phelps yelled at Oliver.

"I know it's going to happen if we don't stop their artillery now" Oliver panted. He had to make a quick decision, something he had become good at, and had gained him the promotion to Sergeant.

"We have to try to get to the machine gun over there, let's go!"

Captain Garrett observed them run fearlessly under the heavy shelling of the Germans. It was a risky but brave choice, perhaps their last chance to stop the inevitable. The casualties were getting bigger and bigger.

He saw them reaching the machine gun and starting to fire back. But then the Germans attacked them with two of their biggest cannons and those caused a huge explosion. Captain Garrett stood up agitated, looking toward the direction where Sergeant Smoak and Private Phelps had run. The ground was battered as never seen before, and there was no trace of his two soldiers. He realized they were dead. As it was getting clear that the battle was lost, the British slowly started to withdraw. Captain Garrett, knowing he had no time to waste, ordered his men to follow.

Oliver tried to open his eyes. He felt like he was buried with all the soil of the world. Then he tried to turn around and get up but was stopped by an immense pain in his back and left leg. He suddenly saw the shadow of a man emerging from the dust.

"Er ist noch am Leben!" He is still alive. It was the voice of a German soldier. The battle was over.

Early November, 1918

German War Prisoners Camp, somewhere near Lake Tanganyika

It had taken Oliver months to heal from the multiple fractures on his left leg and the wounds on his back. As a war prisoner, he had been transferred a few times in different camps and he'd never recovered well enough to try to escape. Now he was in a camp not far from Lake Tanganyika, as he had been told.

Just when he was getting back on his feet, an epidemic of yellow fever had arrived at the camp. Of 20 prisoners, only half had survived, and he was one of them. He'd been imprisoned with Belgian, French and South African soldiers and officers.

Oliver didn't know how many days or weeks passed. He had lost track of day and night. He didn't remember when he was sleeping, when he was awake or when he was hallucinating. Every time he tried to sit up his head started spinning violently, and he had to crush back on the cushion. He wanted to be angry and throw things, but he was so ill he didn't even have the strength to breathe.

He knew he dreamt of his family, in particular Laurel and his sister Thea. They must have believed he was dead, because he had never been able to contact them, and the casualties at Mahiwa had been enormous.

Oliver had heard his mates talking about the end of the war. News were coming and going and the fact that the Germans were acting in a different way, it was telling. This finally gave Oliver hope, because until now, he had concentrated all his will in trying to stay alive.

His conditions got poorer. His mates thought that in the end, for much he was tough, he wouldn't make it. When the end of the war was announced, the Germans had fled the camp leaving the prisoners on their own. When they had gathered around Oliver's bed to make plans, he had imperatively told them to leave him there, he would have managed on his own. His mates left him some provisions and a rifle with munitions, and left the camp.

May 1920

Somewhere near Lake Tanganyika

One year and a half had passed. A couple of days after Oliver was left alone, he had been found by Xhabo, the chief of a village nearby. Xhabo had shouldered him and carried him to his village, where his wife Wande had nursed him patiently as if he was her son.

What the western knowledge hadn't managed to do, Wande, the village healer, did. Oliver fought and won the yellow fever, but then he started another battle, the one that concerned the wounds in his heart.

During the battle of Mahiwa, Oliver had sworn he'd never come back to Africa once the war was over. But now he had no desire to go back to Starling City. Life in that little village was simple but very tough, and it couldn't be more different from what he was used to before the war. Oliver literally owned only the clothes he was wearing, and a bow and arrow Xhabo had built him. And he needed nothing more. He had slowly grown accustomed to the routine of the village, and day by day his nightmares had thinned out.

Oliver, or Mzungu, as they called him affectionately, became part of Xhabo and Wande's family. Their older son had died fighting for the Empire, but they still had two small children, a boy and a girl called Abasi and Adimu. The twins adored Oliver, who played with them as if he was playing with Thea.

One day Oliver came back to the village with an antelope he had caught with just one arrow.

"You have become a good hunter now Mzungu. Wande will be proud of you" Xhabo said.

Oliver smiled. It was the first time he went hunting alone. The animal was quite large and would have provided meat for his family for a long time.

"I'm still far from being as good as you Xhabo. I've been away the whole morning" He said while looking at the sun which was at its peak in the sky.

"One step at a time, Mzungu" Xhabo said quietly. When he went hunting, it didn't take him more than one hour to come back with something. In that part of the country hunting was very important, and the first thing that Xhabo had taught Oliver was to use the bow and the arrows. He had noticed he was particularly skilled with it. Oliver had shrugged; he said he'd learned to be precise at the shooting range.

Wande let out a big cry when Oliver showed her the antelope. Wande had come to care for this young man, perhaps because he had a quietness and gentleness that reminded her of his lost son. She knew he had suffered, she had seen him suffer, and she wondered why he didn't want to go back to his family. When she asked him, he'd been very vague. He kept saying that he didn't want to go back to that old life.

That night Oliver cooked for his new family a good chunk of the Antelope. They sat around the fire and eat, and everything was just good.

May 1921

It was unusual to see white men coming to the village. It had happened a few times, but every time Oliver had been out hunting, and Xhabo knew that he wasn't interested in talking to them.

That morning Oliver was staying at their house, repairing a side of the roof. Wande was collecting roots with the twins.

Then Abasi and Adimu had run to him screaming and jumping that there was a white man at the village, a priest. Oliver sighed; a priest was the last person he wanted to see. But then Adimu said that he talked like him, and Oliver had come to the conclusion that he must be American too. He placed down his tools and followed the twins.

The white man was indeed a priest. He was on a horse with a few belongings, and he had stopped to store some water. He was surprised to see Oliver. Well surprised was not the correct word. His facial expression was so amusing Oliver had to laugh.

"Good morning sir, what brings you here?" He said politely and smiling.

"I…ehm good morning to you. Please forgive me, I didn't expect to find a…"

"A white man in an African village. My name is Oliver" Oliver dryly finished the sentence for him.

"Yes, I admit it. I'm headed to Kigoma, I have a small parish church there. I've just come back from the United States, I've been visiting my family in Chicago. I'm father Roberts, by the way" He paused. "You are American too I see, may I ask what you are doing here?" He said cautiously.

"It's a long story" Oliver said "I came here to fight, but I've had a few adventures and I decided to stay here once the war was over" He didn't need to know the whole truth. "I'm from Starling City" He added finally.

"Starling City. That's curious" He said. Oliver raised an eyebrow.

Father Roberts took out a two months old newspaper from his bag. "These are the last news I've read while I was on the boat. There's a big article about your city" He handed the Times to Oliver.

Oliver took the newspaper in his hands as if it was something he'd never seen before. In facts he hadn't read a newspaper in years.

Starling City magnate Robert Queen, president of Queen Industries, has died in a airplane accident last Friday. He was flying to New York….

Oliver didn't finish the article. He throw the paper away and buried his head in his hands. Xhabo and Wande rushed to him. 

Robert Queen was dead. His father, to whom he had never said goodbye and left in a momentum of childish pride. He was supposed to be alive and safe in America.

He looked at Xhabo and Wande with his eyes full of tears.

"My father is dead" he said. Wande and Xhabo embraced him tight.

"Dear Lord, you are Oliver Queen!" Father Roberts said, but then, realizing immediately that he had used no tact, he said "I apologize, I'm so sorry for your loss. I wish you had found it in another way"

Oliver stood up.

"Yes I am. So you know about me?"

"Well, your story was all over the national news. Your family thought you had died in battle"

Oliver looked down. Dad had died, he was thought to be dead. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it must feel for his mother and sister, left alone with the responsibility of the Queen Industries on their shoulders.

Xhabo walked near him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"My dear Mzungu, it's time to go home to your family" Oliver nodded. He knew he couldn't hide there anymore.

The next day he left with Father Roberts for Kigoma. He needed to find a passage to Dar Es Salaam and then contact the American Embassy. But first he needed to find a job that would allow him to travel. Father Roberts promised to help.

Bidding farewell to Xhabo, Wande and the twins was hard. Oliver told them he loved them as his own family and he would never forget them. Xhabo gave him his own bow and arrows and Oliver took them with trembling hands. It was a gift of the highest honor.


	4. 4

June 1921

Starling City

Moira and Thea Queen were standing in the hallway holding hands. Moira's hand was cold and steady, Thea's was warm and trembling. Oliver would be coming home any minute.

Ten days ago they had received the shocking news of Oliver being alive. It had caused them quite an emotional turmoil, just a few months after the devastating death of their husband and father. And five years after believing Oliver dead.

When Oliver had fled home that morning in June, they thought it was a joke. But then he hadn't contacted them and they couldn't locate him anywhere due to his fake name. Once they found out what name he was hiding behind, it was too late. He was listed as "killed in action" after the Battle of Mahiwa. Their son and brother had died in a god forgotten place, and they didn't even have a body to bury. It had been a lot to handle.

"Mother?"

"Yes darling?"

"I don't know what to say to him. I'm so happy to have him back but…"

"To be honest, I don't know either. I would love to scold him for leaving us like a thief in the middle of the night, but in the same time I know he's suffered too much for his own good. All I want is to see him again"

"How can we ask him what has happened?"

"We won't, darling. He will tell us when he feels like doing it" Moira said sweetly.

"We also have the Laurel and Tommy problem" Thea reminded.

"I think he'll understand. It's been five years and we all thought he was dead. And it's not like Laurel didn't have any right to be angry with him. He is the one who left without saying goodbye to her"

"Mother, I know you don't like to hear it, but I'm sure Oliver wasn't never really in love with her. It's mostly because it's Laurel AND Tommy"

Moira rolled her eyes and said nothing.

A car drove to the entrance. Thea squeezed her mother's hand.

Raisa opened the door and stepped aside, trying to restrain herself from crying.

The man who stepped in wasn't the man they remembered. His was thin but his body had become stronger. He was tanned, his skin almost bronzed. His sand blond hair was lighter, burnt by the sun. He was still handsome as ever, his features just hardened.

Oliver attempted a smile. He looked quickly around the hall of his home, where nothing had changed, and then he placed his gaze on his mother and sister. Moira Queen was the gracious and elegant woman she had always been, and Thea…Oliver sighed. She wasn't his little sister anymore. She was a beautiful young lady. He counted in his mind that she was 21 years old now. He felt his stomach sink with guilt.

Moira and Thea run to Oliver and hugged him. His tightened up body relaxed when he found himself in their arms, it was a familiar feeling he thought he had forgotten.

Once they stepped back he smiled again.

"Mother, how are you doing?"

"I'm good now that I have you back" She said with teary eyes. He then turned to Thea.

"I'm so happy to see you! Look at you, you are a woman!" He said melancholically.

Thea grabbed him by his elbow and said "You have changed too. But I'm stating the obvious. Shall we go to the living room? Or do you want to go to your room?" She paused "I've missed you so much Ollie!"

His brother smiled softly and said "No, not yet. I'd like some coffee if possible. Haven't had a good cup for a long time"

"I'll be right back with your coffee, Mr. Oliver" Raisa said.

They proceeded to the living room, and sat down, Oliver in front of his family. He knew they were feeling awkward and probably had questions. He knew it was all up to him, so he started first.

"Would you tell me about father? I read it on an old newspaper in Africa. But it had just happened so there wasn't much information, and the missionary who gave me the paper didn't know much more"

Moira took a deep breath. It was painful to remember those facts again.

"It's very simple. Your father had purchased a small airplane built by Merlyn Industries. One morning he took it to fly to New York for a business meeting, and it crashed fifteen minutes after leaving. Probably a mechanical problem, but the plane burned so much, there was almost nothing to analyze"

Oliver stayed quiet for a moment.

"What did Merlyn said about it?"

"Merlyn? He is devastated of course. This new plane was his flagship and Robert has been a friend for years, not only a rival" Moira seemed taken aback by his son's question.

"Of course he was, of course"

Oliver shifted his legs on the sofa.

"Did you attend Laurel's and Tommy's wedding?" He asked bluntly.

"How…you know then?" Thea said.

"I spent a week on a boat on my way to New York. There were plenty of old magazines and newspapers to read. It looked like it was one of the most covered social events of the year"

Moira wasn't sure if his tone was sarcastic or disappointed.

"We were invited, and we attended. Your father was adamant"  
"Of course" He said flatly.

"Does it bother you?" Thea asked.

"Not anymore. It's been five years, I'm glad she has moved on with her life" He hastened to say.

When Oliver read the first article on that wedding, which had taken place the previous summer, he was shocked: of all people, Laurel had married Tommy! Tommy was his best friend. He wondered if they had bonded over grief, or anger.

"I'm happy to hear you are fine with this" Moira said.

"As I said, it's been five years, mother. I think I overrated my feelings for her, so I guess it's better this way" Oliver had enough of that argument so he switched topic do Thea, asking what she was doing now. She had finished school and was managing the Verdant Restaurant and the Café, a Night Club attached to it.

"You're aware of the alcohol ban, aren't you?" She sighed.

"I am. It's absurd. As if this prohibition would resolve the problems connected with alcohol. Criminal organizations are having a feast on that" He asserted.

"They are" Moira said "It's a huge issue everywhere, Starling City included. There is no day a newspaper doesn't talk about it"

"Speaking of newspapers. I gather the Starling Weekly is doing well? I think I'm going to stop there this afternoon"

"It's in excellent shape. Your Mrs. Prudence has been surprisingly a good vice-president"

"Good, I am actually eager to back to work there" He said.

"I think we should also talk about your role in the Queen Industries. Now that Robert is gone…"

He interrupted sharply. "I've also heard that Queen Industries are in excellent shape thanks to Walter Steele. The group is in good hands. At the moment I'm only interested in getting back at the magazine".

"But…" Moira started.

"Sorry mother, but this is the deal now" He stood up the sofa a bit irritated.

"If you don't mind calling the driver, I would like to go the magazine now"

Thea gestured at Raisa and she nodded leaving the room. Oliver hugged quickly his mother and sister and told them he would see them again for dinner.

Moira and Thea were left dismayed. Of course Oliver had changed, but they weren't prepared anyway. He had appeared pleasant but very distant. And he had said not a single word about what happened to him.

When Oliver walked into the building, it looked like everybody had stopped breathing. They all knew he had come back, but nobody expected to see him at the publishing house so soon, or at all. He smiled politely and thanked everybody who greeted him, then he asked if Miss Prudence was in her office.

One of the employees told him that "Mrs." Prudence was indeed there. Oliver mouthed "Mrs.?"

"She got married last year" He was told.

"How nice!" He said. He knocked lightly to her door and when she heard her voice he opened it cautiously. When Mrs. Prudence lifted her head and saw him, tears filled her eyes.

"Mr. Queen, it's really you!" She stood up and rushed to embrace him. After a few seconds she stepped back and said "It's unbelievable! I read your letter…." She paused. "There are a few things that were hard to understand, but I did everything you asked me to do"

"I know. I was told that the magazine is running successfully, well done! And I also heard that you got married, congratulations!"

Prudence smiled "Well, yes I got married last year. A kind soul, and a war veteran like you" She cleared her voice.

"But the success of the magazine is due mainly to our new chief reporter, John Diggle. He's also a veteran. He's a very thoughtful writer, we really won the lottery when he joined us. I would introduce you to him but he is out for a research in The Glades now"

"There's no problem, I'll talk to him tomorrow. I also saw the recent magazines. Always perfectly printed, Mr. Smoak keeps doing a spotless job"

He saw Mrs. Prudence blank look.

"Mr. Oliver….I'm afraid I have sad news. Mr. Smoak has passed away six months ago"

Oliver looked down abashed.

"This is a sad news. I had such a respect for him" He stood quiet for a while.

Who's in charge of the printing process now? Did you hire someone new?"

"I did sir. You may find it interesting" She said.

"I'm all ears"

"It's Mr. Smoak's daughter, Felicity"

Oliver seemed amused. He remembered Mr. Smoak had talked about her daughter, had she fixed some of the machines or something? He wasn't sure, it had been a long time.

"Then I need to meet her and give her my condolences. I suppose I'll find her downstairs, right?"

"Yes sir. If you pardon me, I have a few telephone calls to make. And when you feel like doing it, I'd like to talk to you about the dozens of calls I've received about your return. Everybody wants to interview you!"

"I have something on my mind actually"

"Wonderful, can't wait to hear about it! Your office has been cleaned and ventilated" She added.

"Thank you Prudence"

Oliver left his hat on the desk of his office and went downstairs. Only half of the printing machines were working as the magazine had come out a few days before.

He saw a woman leaning into a machine with a spanner in her left hand. She was short, she was wearing a red skirt and a white shirt, and her blonde hair was combed in a bun.

Oliver stopped a few feet from her, and cleared his voice.

"Felicity Smoak?"

The young woman turned around stunned. She was very pretty, he noticed, and wore glasses.

"Yes?"

"Hi, I'm Oliver Queen"

"Mr. Queen, right. I heard you came back from the dea…from Africa, sorry!" She said alarmed.

Oliver couldn't help smiling. Her face had made an amusing worried expression when she had realized her lapsus. She seemed like a genuine person.

"Well, as a matter of fact, that's what happened. I was thought dead, and then I appeared back"

Miss Smoak pushed up her nose her glasses and said.

"I'm glad you are alive. My father often talked to me about you"

"About your father….Mrs. Prudence told me he passed away. I'm very sorry to hear that. Your father was a hard working man and a pillar for this magazine"

Felicity Smoak looked at Oliver Queen with sad eyes and nodded.

"I'd like to address my condolences too, for your father"

Oliver looked back at her for a while and then said "But I'm happy you have taken his place. He has spoken very fondly of you. You are an excellent addition to the magazine!"

Her face lightened up.

"Thank you. I'll do my best to not disappoint you"

"To be honest, I hope I'll be the one to not disappoint you" He said winking. Felicity gulped and watched him leaving with her jaw dropped.


	5. 5

Chapter 5

June 1921

Felicity Smoak was leaning with one arm on John Diggle's desk, while holding some drafts with the other one. She had an amused expression on her face, while merrily talking to his colleague.

"I really thought you'd have met him by now. I mean, he even came downstairs to meet me!"

Diggle turned around in his swivel chair and rolled his eyes. "If I didn't know you, I'd think you'd come up here to gloat about it. So tell me, what kind of man he is?"

"He is something…" She said cheekily "Ehm…I mean he is inscrutable. He was very polite when he came down, but I can't read him yet. Definitely nicer than I thought he would be"

"From what I've gathered here, he's always been careless about the paper. Mrs. Prudence on the other hand speaks highly of him…go figure" He said.

"I'll be happy to oblige your curiosity, sir" He heard someone saying behind him. Oliver Queen had just entered his office smiling.

Diggle felt many layers of embarrassment. The last thing he thought was to be caught like a student doing something mischievous.

"I'm sorry. I suppose you know better than me that you have been the center of every possible attention since you've come back, sir" He said apologetically standing up like a soldier.

"I know. Mrs. Prudence has counted more than 40 calls from different papers around the country wanting to interview or make articles about me. Apparently I'm a safe sold out!"

"You most certainly are, sir" Diggle nodded.

"You could fool everybody Mr. Queen by making the interview on the Starling Weekly. Penned by Mr. Diggle of course. We would probably have the highest circulation ever!" Felicity suggested.

John Diggle and Oliver Queen turned their head, opening their eyes wide almost simultaneously toward Felicity.

"I hadn't thought about it!" Diggle said in disbelief, mostly about himself. "That's a clever idea Felicity!" Then he faced Oliver

"What do you think, sir?"

"Mr. Diggle, I certainly agree. Thank you Miss Smoak, I'm impressed" He sat down in front of Diggle's desk.

"So, why don't you both have a seat and we discuss this thing. To be honest, the fastest I get rid of this interview, the better" He continued. Felicity and Diggle sat down almost in contemporary. Diggle took out his notebook and tapped the pencil on the desk. Felicity sat nicely with her hands folded on her lap.

"When is the next number out?"

"Next Monday, sir"

"So we have, 5 days" He asserted "Well, Diggle, as soon as you have put down the questions you'd like to ask me, we can sit down here and I'll answer them one by one. You write down the article, I check it and we're done. Deal?"

"Sounds perfect sir" Diggle agreed. His boss was quite decisive.

"Mr. Queen!" Felicity interrupted "We need to think a good title for the article, something sensational, more or less. And we could advertise by radio that we have an exclusive interview with you!" She said frantically.

She stood up and scratched her chin "What about The return from the dead of Oliver Queen"

Oliver couldn't help smiling but he cleared his voice and said:

"Miss Smoak, I appreciate your ideas and your enthusiasm, but please don't exaggerate"

"Ups, right. Sorry!" She stuttered.

"It sounds like the title of a horror novel, Felicity! Let's make it simpler" Diggle considered while elbowing her.

Upon hearing the words "horror novel" Oliver went quiet and looked down at his hands. He passed his thumb on a scar he had on his left hand, near the knuckles. What he had experienced in the past five years had been a horror. The battles, the time in the prison camp and even the healing time with Xhabo and his family. Life in the savanna was not easy. A few nights before Moira had commented that these years had definitely and finally made him a man. He wasn't sure about that. Those five years had made of him a survivor , this he knew. It's not that he felt invincible, but he was still careless, a different kind of careless. If before he was the kind who didn't care about anything or the consequences of his actions, now he was the kind who wasn't afraid of what could happen, somehow he would face things.

Felicity and Diggle noticed that Oliver was lost in his thoughts, and they didn't know what to do. Felicity raised her hand to gesture him something but she managed to drop the drafts, making a noise. Oliver came out of his thoughts and Felicity turned read, embarrassed.

"I apologize. Well, shall the three of us meet tomorrow with the questions?" He said looking at both of them.

"Me?" Felicity said pointing the finger at herself.

"Of course. It was your idea, after all" He said gravely "Now, please talk to Prudence about calling the radio stations to advertise the interview, discuss with her the kind of message that should go out. I trust you'll do well" He said.

Felicity was overwhelmed. She stood speechless for a moment.

"Of course, I don't want this to interfere with your work down the printing room" He said cautiously.

"It won't sir, don't worry" She said, finally with an excited smile on her face, which wasn't left unnoticed by Diggle and Oliver.

The next afternoon

"Sir, your answers are brilliant. This is going to be a smash!" Diggle said enthusiastically.

Oliver smirked.

"No, you gave me brilliant questions. It was interesting and challenging for me to read such interesting question" He said.

"So shall we go to print then?" He asked Felicity.

"Absolutely. And I'll plan the reprints too" She said determined.

One week later

Felicity cleaned her forehead with her arm, when she saw Oliver jumping down the stairs. She rolled her eyes and walked toward him looking exhausted and a little worried.

"No, Mr. Queen. Please don't tell me you need another reprint of the magazine. The machines are fuming, and I'm already going with the reprint number 7"

Oliver seemed a little disappointed, but then he said.

"Ahh, right. I admit this is why I came down here, but well….People will just have to wait until the next reprint"

"It's been extraordinary, sir. I've never been so overwhelmed with work like this. And my colleagues who have been here for a longer time are saying the same. Congratulations!"

"It's a great satisfaction, at least for the magazine. I wish now that people will finally put aside their interest in what happened to me" He paused for a moment and looked at Felicity. He then realized something and took her hand.

"Thank you again Miss Smoak, I'm glad to have you here at the magazine. You are very clever; I think you would run this magazine very well. But I gather you prefer staying here between the machines"

She blushed "In facts I do"

"We should actually celebrate. What do you think, would you come out for dinner tonight?" He asked.

Felicity froze. Is this an invitation? Has Oliver Queen just asked me out? She nodded.

"You know where The Verdant Restaurant is, right? I'll meet you and Diggle there at 8 o' clock.

No, of course it was not a date. Where had my mind raced, silly me!

"It sounds perfect, sir. We'll see you there later, then" She said. She walked back to one of the printers shaking her head. How on earth she could have thought, even for a few seconds, that her handsome boss had asked her out for a date. He was certainly not interested in her in that way.

Felicity, Diggle and Oliver had a nice dinner at Thea's Restaurant. Helped by a fine bottle of Italian wine they talked all evening, creating a bond between themselves that they were and weren't surprised of. They shared the same vision about the war and its aftermath, about the direction of the magazine, about what was happening in their city. Oliver found himself looking at these two people and seeing in them someone intelligent and loyal, that he could learn to trust as friends. For the first time, after he had come back, he thought that he could look out for something positive in his life.


	6. 6

Chapter 6

That Sunday Oliver woke up early as usual. His internal clock was set to 6 a.m. and no matter what time he had gone to bed, or how tired he was, he didn't seem to be able to change it. He also never really rested, and his nights were filled with dreams of his past, whether they were battles or about the days spent at the prison camp. Faces of comrades or officials he'd fought with were still vivid in his mind. He knew the only way to stop those dreams was to come to terms with his past. And he could only do that by undoing his wrongs.

Oliver walked down the stairs to the hall, and stopped to look at his father's portrait that was hung on the wall. He didn't remember it, so he assumed it must have been painted in the years he was gone. Oliver sighed, it was time to go visit him at the cemetery, since in the 3 weeks he'd been home he hadn't gone yet. Moira had once asked cautiously if he wished to go, but he said he couldn't. He didn't dare go face him, even in front of the tombstone, knowing that his reckless behavior had brought him away from his family, and to never see his father again. Although it happened for circumstances he couldn't have controlled, he felt responsible.

Oliver went for a walk in the park of their mansion, and stayed there quietly an hour or so. It was a place he used to love so much when he was a child. How many games he'd played there with Tommy.

Tommy, his best friend. Who had gone and married Laurel, his fiancée. In other circumstances he would have been furious and considered him a traitor. Maybe even punch him. But after all this time, Oliver had realized that he felt nothing more than affection for Laurel, and if they had married now, in the case Laurel had forgiven him and accepted him, their marriage would have been what society expected, but it would have made Laurel very unhappy in the end. Tommy was on the best men he'd ever known, and deep down Oliver knew that he had harbored feelings for Laurel for as long as he could go back in time. No, the list of things that Oliver needed to do right include first and most Laurel, followed by Tommy. He needed to apologize to them, and hope they would forgive him, one day.

When Oliver came back to the mansion, her mother and sister were having breakfast in the dining room. Raisa brought him a cup of strong coffee and few toasts.

"I think it's time for me to go to the cemetery" He said suddenly. Moira glanced at him relieved.

"Do you want to go this morning?" She asked.

"Yes" Her mother nodded at him.

"If you don't mind Ollie, I'd love to come with you. There is something we also need to tell you, but we haven't dared yet" Thea said looking at her mother for a sign of approval. Moira nodded and gestured her to keep going.

"Sarah Lance" She started.

"What about her? Is she still in Canada?" He tried to sound unconcerned.

Of course he remembered Laurel's little sister. A smiley blonde girl with blue eyes. So different from her sister. She had gone to university in Toronto, wanting to be something else like the rest of the girls her age. Well, this was the official version of the story. The real one was that she had escaped with a broken heart. Sarah and Oliver had maintained a brief relationship years ago, when Oliver was already engaged to Laurel. Sarah had fallen in love with him, but Oliver hadn't really reciprocated the sentiment, and had behaved very selfishly. Sarah loved Laurel and feeling enormously ashamed for their deceitful behavior, she had left Starling City, in the hope of forgetting Oliver and the betrayal she had committed. Oliver, on the other hand, had acted as if nothing had happened, going on with his engagement with Laurel. Only Tommy had learned, with much side-eye, about this dalliance.

"No. When the United States entered the war, she joined the Red Cross as an ambulance driver"

Oliver shot a worried look at her sister.

"She died a few months before the end of the war in Ypres. Apparently her ambulance was blown up by a bomb" Thea explained.

"Oh my God" Oliver was shocked. Of course the war had taken its toll on everybody. Even here, in Starling City. He'd heard a few of his friends in society had been killed or wounded. But the last thing he could imagine was that it could be Sarah. Sarah, whom he'd never seen again after she fled. Whom he'd never apologized to for acting like a jerk.

She had been buried in Belgium, but a memorial stone had been put in the city's cemetery, not far from the place where his father was.

"I'll take you there if you want to" Thea asked.

"Yes" Was his short answer. Had he spoken more, Thea and his mother would have noticed how his voice was trembling.

Their driver took them to the cemetery and waited outside the main entrance. Thea took Oliver to their father tombstone. She kneeled down to the large vase of light pink petunias, cleaning away some of the dead petals. Then she stepped away, allowing Oliver to spend that moment alone with him.

He told his father everything he had in his heart. Not aloud, because it wasn't for Thea to hear. He felt sorry for having acted so impetuously, for defying him, because now he understood why his father had been so against him joining the war. He'd remembered it later. His father, having been born in England, had fought in the Anglo-Boer war in Africa. How terrible it must have been for him to find out that his only son had apparently died in that continent where he had fought too. His father barely spoke about this experience, and only now Oliver understood why. People who have only lived in peace cannot understand war. It was that simple.

After a couple of minutes he turned around and addressed Thea, who had stayed silently a few steps away from him.

"Where's Sarah?"

"Come" She said smiling and took him by the arm. "I thought she was nice the times she had come to our house. I remember everybody was so surprised when she decided to go university! I admired her for that choice"

"You could go now, if you wanted to" Oliver said misunderstanding the meaning of her words.

"It's too late now Oliver, and it's not about the university itself. She had the freedom to choose what to do with her life. I enjoy running the Verdant, but in the end, I'm still stuck here. I have to thank Mr. Steele for putting a word in with my mother. And she uses every possible occasion to find me a husband. There is no event where she doesn't suddenly introduce me to a man!" She said dryly.

Oliver grinned.

"You know mother means good in the end. She is hell-bent on keeping our status quo in Starling City's society. She is always been the protagonist, and she wants us to be too. But don't worry, I won't allow you to marry someone you don't want to" He assured.

"Even if he is not of our social circle?" Thea asked with a caustic tone.

Oliver raised an eyebrow.

"Is there something you want to tell me?"

"Ahah, no. I'm just playing with you"

Oliver flicked her on the arm.

"I'll be at your side whatever you decide to do. But you know mother will make it very difficult. Give her a few months time and she will be throwing at me a list of possible wives"

"I'm surprised she hasn't started yet. The heir of the Queen Industries cannot stay unwed for too long"

Oliver smirked peeved.

"I think I'd like to get married, but on my own terms"

"You mean you'll marry only out of love? I would"

"Yes. I'm not the man my mother used to know. I won't make the mistake of conforming to what is asked by society and then act like a rake because I'm not happy in my choice"

"That is what would have happened if you…." Thea started.

"If I had married Laurel…I know. She never deserved me and I'm glad he is married to Tommy. I also think she wasn't the right woman for me"

"And who would that be?"

Oliver laughed amused.

"I don't know Thea. But I know I want to marry a woman who knows her own mind, who is not afraid to show her feelings and live them. Someone who shares with me an ideal of justice and rightness"

"You seem to have quite a pretty clear idea" Thea noticed.

"You think? I guess I have. In the end, we have one life to live, and after these five years where I've risked mine enough, I don't want to miss anything. And I want you to have the same chances too"

Thea opened her mouth to talk.

"You know it can't be the same for me"

"Thea, I know we live in a world that is unfair to women, but you are an intelligent and fierce lady, I know you can make your way through it"

They arrived at Sarah's memorial tombstone. Oliver found it questionable, since Sarah's body was actually in Belgium and he wondered if it was necessary to have a physical place where to go mourn her. But then, it was a decision of the Lance family, and he certainly was the last person to dispute it.

They heard the steps of people walking on the gravel behind them. Thea turned around first and when Oliver heard her say "Oh", he did the same immediately.

There she was. Laurel Lance, no, she was Laurel Merlyn now. Dressed in a brick red dress, her blond hair combed in a bob at the base of her neck, she looked elegant and stunning. Near her was Tommy, whose face had lightened up at the sight of his old friend. Laurel's face was cold and angry. She made a few steps forward and slapped Oliver as hard as she could.


	7. 7

Chapter 7

"How dare you?" She said in the coldest tone she could muster.

"How dare you be here. Be alive. Be like nothing had happened" Tommy and Thea fixed their gaze on the ground while Oliver looked at her calmly, waiting to hear everything he knew he deserved to hear.

"I wish I could say that I'm glad to see you but no, you won't hear lies from me. I'm not like you" She clenched her fists.

"I'm sorry Laurel. I'm so very sorry, I know I did…" Oliver started but Laurel didn't let him finish.

"Don't. I don't want to hear your apologies; this lifetime is not enough for you to apologize to me. I'm done with you for the rest of my life. When it comes to your friend Tommy, or your family, it's up to them to be fooled by you" She took hold of the hem of her gown and looked at her husband.

"I'll wait in the car" She told him and marched away.

They stood silent for what seemed an eternity and then Oliver said.

"Well, it could have been worse"

"I'm sorry Oliver" Tommy said.

"Oh please, don't be. She has every right to be mad at me. No question" He made a pause.

"But I hope you are not too mad at me either" He added.

Tommy made a half smile.

"Oh, I was. You have no idea how mad I was at you and how much I missed you. You told me nothing, you didn't write me, I thought you were dead. You were my best friend"

He took a deep breath. "And you still will be. But we need more than a few dinner nights at the Verdant"

Oliver gave him a hopeful look.

"There are many things I want to tell you. To my family. But there is still a lot to process, even for me. Please be patient" He admitted.

"I will" He made a few steps forward, and winked to Thea.

"Now, won't you give a hug to your old friend?"

Oliver couldn't believe his ears. He hadn't cried in a very long time, he hadn't even cried when he'd seen his father grave for the first time. But now, in front of his friend, he felt his eyes filling with tears. He shook his head and opened his arms to Tommy. He had a long path ahead of him to recuperate Tommy's friendship and he knew he couldn't fail one single thing.

"You know, this lovely portrait is really making teary, but maybe we could move this affection showing somewhere else than a cemetery?" Thea said clearing her voice.

"You have a point" Tommy laughed.

They left the cemetery. When they reached the main entrance gate, Oliver didn't even attempt to greet Laurel, she was sitting in the backseat of the car staring at the opposite direction. Tommy and Oliver gave each other an understanding nod and left.

Oliver instructed the driver to drop Thea at the Verdant and then to take him to the magazine. A few blocks before he asked the driver to stop, he'd decided he wanted to walk to the building. It was a sunny day and he thought walking would help him clear his mind, precisely about Laurel.

He admitted to himself that there wasn't really something he could do about. Only time would tell if she could forgive him. Maybe a happy life at Tommy's side would make her put aside her hard, however right, feelings. He'd promised Tommy to tell him everything but he already knew he couldn't. He needed to think carefully about it. Circumstances had drove him further away from home, but it the end it had been his decision to stay in Africa. How could he explain it or justify it?

He frowned and looked around him. And then something caught his eye in a small alley he passed by. Two big men, dressed in dark clothes were threatening who seemed to be a young boy. Oliver came closer and saw that he was actually a young man, perhaps in his twenties.

"Now tell us where did you get this gun! Did you steal it? It's very expensive, it comes from the Merlyn Gun Factory and they sure as hell don't sell guns to a nobody like you" Oliver heard one of them say.

"I…I didn't steal it. I found it in a dumpster in The Glades" The boy yelled. It was evident that he couldn't stand a chance in front of those two, nevertheless he didn't seem afraid to stand up against them.

"Hmmm…I find it hard to believe" The other man said checking the gun "Well, it belongs to our boss, so we are taking it back"

The first man who'd spoke raised his fist to hit the boy when Oliver jumped and punched him down. Then, as he saw the other one preparing to hit him, he punched him down too. He grabbed the boy by the arm and run away with him.

He quickly glanced back to make sure the two men were still down and then he turned to the young man.

"Are you all right? What was that?" He asked gently.

"Nothing"

"It's far from nothing. But I understand you are shaken. Do you want to sit down somewhere, take a coffee?"

Oliver was still holding him by the arm, and realized the boy relaxed himself a little.

"No, I need to get back home, my mother is sick"

"Did you really find the gun in a dumpster?" He asked cautiously.

"Yes!" He said trying to sound outraged. "I thought I could sell it somewhere and get some money. But those men saw me and thought otherwise"

"Were they following you?"

"I think they were looking for that gun too, and caught me"

"Do you have a job?" Oliver asked.

"I live in The Glades man…there are no jobs, not for veterans, not for me. That place is one hell, criminals everywhere, starting from Merlyn. And the city doesn't care about us. But then, you look like a fine rich man, what would you know about it?"

"I have been away from home for a long time, there are a lot of things I don't know about my city anymore" Oliver admitted.

He gave a quick look at the young man. There was something quite fierce in his expression. Of someone who wasn't willing to give up but didn't know where to go.

"What's your name?"

"Roy…. Roy Harper, sir"

"If you are in need of a job, come meet me at the Starling Weekly. I'm Oliver Queen" Oliver nodded and left Roy stunned.

Roy had read on the papers the story of Oliver Queen. It had seemed so unreal. And there he was, offering him a job. He followed him mouth open as he walked away.

Oliver went back to his office. That piece of information Roy Harper had given him was more than interesting. There had always been something shady about Merlyn. Oliver always showed respect to him because he was Tommy's father and he seemed to be such a good friend with his own father. The Merlyn Industries included a gun factory, a construction company, and airplane engine factory. It wasn't the first time he'd heard rumors about Merlyn being involved in activities that defy legality, but as his father dismissed them vehemently he hadn't given them more thoughts. What could Merlyn possibly be doing in The Glades? He went through different possibilities in his mind.

Oliver stood up and went to the wall behind his desk, where the arrow Xhabo had given him was hung. He touched the string feeling the material in his hands.

"What kind of arrowheads do you use sir?" He heard a female voice behind him. It was Felicity.

Oliver was startled.

"I…I don't have any arrowheads left, haven't been using it since I came back"

"Would you use it again, if you had the heads?"

"What for? You don't hunt in Starling City"

"Fight the crime. The city could use some help" She said half-jokingly. She came close to him, in front of the bow.

"For placing this bow on the wall, it must have a very important significance for you. It would be a shame not to use it anymore, even if it was for practice. I have some material in the storage room, been there for ages. I think I could build you some arrowheads" She offered.

"I can make them too" He assured her.

"Off course. But mine would be much better. Give me a few days, can't take too much time off work you know" She said laughing while leaving the office.

Fight the crime. Where on earth did she come with this idea.

But then he remembered again his meeting with Roy Harper. And the fact that his father had died in a plane accident, a plane built by Merlyn's company. The thought that were rushing through his mind were becoming a plan. A plan that was crazy but somehow it made sense.


	8. Chapter 8

_Three months later_

The Glades were an awful place. Grim, dirty, poor. The ruins of the steel factory that Malcolm Merlyn had bought and closed shortly after, were standing there as a reminder of the better future the neighborhood could have had. The factory was closed, and nobody had set a foot in there after the war had ended. Or so it seemed.

Oliver was perched on the roof of a warehouse looking into the direction of the steel factory. He was unrecognizable, wearing a dark green suit and a hood that covered his head and a mask on his face.  
Once more, what Roy Harper had told him about Merlyn had left him thinking over and over again. He didn’t want to be exposed by asking his journalists to investigate him, so he’d been doing some checking by himself. There were voices about activities of dubious nature and Oliver was convinced that something was going on in the abandoned factory.

He’d been observing the area for a while. On his shoulder, the bow he’d brought from Tanzania and the bag with the arrows Felicity had made for him. He’d told her he was using them for training in his mansion, and not to fight crime as she had told him to do half seriously, half joking. He’d indeed considered that seriously, but never told her.

During his night outings he had started to go after small criminals and scoundrels. News of this hooded man had come to the ear of John Diggle at the Starling Weekly who had shown an interest on that mysterious vigilante. Much to Diggle’s regret, Oliver dismissed the story as something fit for cheap magazine, but he wasn’t sure he’d been convincing enough. And in truth he wasn’t wrong.  
Oliver was seeing a light in between two buildings but his sight didn’t reach far enough. Finally, he saw a man coming out of the door where the light was coming out so he stood up and attempted to jump to another roof to get closer. It didn’t go as he planned, the roof was made of weakened wood and it crashed below his feet. Luckily for him he fell on something soft. Unluckily for him, during the fall he hit something pointy and hard and he felt a would opening in his right shoulder. Then everything went blank.

John Diggle couldn’t believe his eyes. He had wanted to know more about the vigilante, and he knew the only way to do so was to wander in the Glades and ask people, maybe wait to see him in action. Sacrificing his family time, he’d spent a few nights in the Glades, where nothing had happened so far. Finally, that night he’d come to something. The man he’d seen falling through the old roof was wearing a hood and was specifically observing something. Diggle immediately ran toward the building and made his way through the door of what seem to be a simple warehouse. Aware of the fact that this man was probably wounded and not willing to let himself known, he approached him carefully.  
He seemed senseless, which was a good start. Who knows the way he would have reacted? Diggle bent down and gasped. He couldn’t utter his name, it couldn’t possibly be him.

  
“Boss” He whispered. He didn’t respond him.  
“Sir, can you hear me, sir? This is John Diggle”  
Oliver moaned. He was slowly coming back to his senses. Someone was whispering his name. A familiar voice. That fact made him suddenly open his eyes wide open. He realized someone had recognized him.  
“Sir, please. You have quite the wound on your shoulder” Diggle said while tying his tie to his boss’s shoulder, hoping to stop the bleeding.  
Oliver sat up in trying to disguise his pain. Then he tried to get up but couldn’t get past bending a knee.  
“SIR” Diggle raised his voice “We need to get to the hospital right now. You need stiches…and something more”  
“NO” Oliver nearly yelled. Then ho took a deep breath.  
“I can’t go to the hospital, you know that. If you help me up, I’ll go to the Verdant, and then I’ll get a lift home”  
“Sir, I can’t do that. My home is too far but…” He suddenly remembered that Felicity Smoak lived near the Glades, in a neighborhood called Rainbow Meadow. It was quiet, family oriented.  
“I think I may have the solution; can you get up and walk a bit?” Oliver’s answer was to stand up slowly and trembly.  
“As long as it’s not a hospital” He muttered.  
“No, somewhere better, Felicity Smoak’s home” Hearing the name made Oliver groan in pain.  
“No no, we can’t go to her house. She can’t see me like this”  
“Oh, don’t you worry Boss, if she needs to stay silent, she will. And she won’t be too shocked either”

They reached Rainbow Meadow after a short walk. Felicity’s home, a simple house painted in light grey with green shutters was right at the beginning of the road. A light was on in an upstairs room, but overall everybody around seemed to be sleeping.  
Diggle knocked steadily on the door. After a few seconds he heard Felicity’s voice asking:

“Who’s there?”  
“It’s John Diggle…and” He hesitated “A guest….”  
Felicity opened slowly the door. She was wearing silk flowery pajamas and her long blond hair was tied in a braid. She was holding a baseball hat in the other hand. Diggle tried to hold back a smile while Oliver was too distressed to look at her.  
Felicity placed the bat near the entrance and sighed.  
“Mr. Queen, to be completely honest, I didn’t expect you to get hurt so quickly”  
Oliver’s heart skipped a beat. Did she know?  
“Felicity, how...how do you…” Oliver said while she helped him with Diggle to get on the sofa of her living room.  
“Mr. Queen, you’ve been asking me to make a lot of arrow heads” She particularly insisted on the words “a lot”.

  
She sat in front of him and went on “When last month you invited the staff at your mansion for the 15th anniversary party, I saw the target you were supposed to practice on and it was, way too neat. I figured, though I admit I was probably thinking too highly of myself, that maybe…maybe you had really listened to my advice”  
“And what would that be” Diggle interrupted confused.  
“Fight the crime” She said. “And well, looks like that’s what he’s been doing. But hey we’ve got a wound to fix here, Mr. Diggle please, see that cupboard over there? There is a first aid box on the last shelf”  
“You can call me John; I think at this point we’re past formalities” He said while handing her the box.

Oliver shifted on the sofa and moaned in pain once again. Felicity jumped on her feet and got near Oliver. Helped by Diggle, they took away the jacket and the shirt. The wound was not too complicated to fix.  
Felicity was leaning very close to Oliver, so close he could smell whatever perfume or bathing soap she was using. Was it lemon?  
“Bergamot?” He asked her bluntly. Felicity froze her face right in front of his.  
“Mr. Queen did you just smell me?” She pressed her fingers, more or less casually on the skin near the wound.  
“Ahem…I don’t think there was a way to avoid it” He looked at her with the corner of his eye and saw goosebumps on her arm. The corner of his lips twitched in a hint of a smile.

It had been a while since he’d been so close to a woman, and that moment, when Felicity was blushing in front him, had made him feel pleased but also reminded him of a time that was no longer there.  
It was a time full of parties, endless fun, women falling at his feet. Oliver was a charmer and the center of the attention, and he liked it. Now he felt so distant from the man he used to be. His old self would have wooed away Felicity. He wouldn’t have looked past her beauty, because yes, the woman in front of him was enchanting. Now he looked at her and thought the she was quite formidable and trustworthy.

They must have been lingering at each other for a tad too much because suddenly they heard John Diggle clearing his throat.  
Felicity secured the dressing and stepped away, not before whispering in Oliver’s ear.  
“You’re right, it’s bergamot” Now it was his turn to have goosebumps.

She walked to the kitchen to make some tea and returned a while later with a tray. Feeling a bit better Oliver looked at his two companions.  
“I know I’m preaching to the choir but….”  
“We won’t tell anyone Mr. Queen, if that’s what you’re thinking” John quickly glanced at Felicity who nodded back.  
“Yes sir, it won’t go outside this room…” She paused for a second, hesitant.  
“But I think what happened to you tonight means something else. You can’t do this all by yourself”  
“What do you mean?”  
“I mean, Mr. Queen, that me and John Diggle will be your partners. We’re in with you”  
Felicity leaned back on the sofa and crossed her arms. “Now, would be so kind to tell us what’s so interesting in the Glades, despite small criminals?”


End file.
